Say It With Me: R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

From page 82 of Jodi Picoult's House Rules,


"Teachers deserve respect," I explain.

"Why do they get it for free, when everyone else has to earn it?"


No, I'm not saying anything against teachers. Its a wonderful noble profession that not everyone is able to carry out nicely. I'm currently rereading the book when I came across the above quote and it struck me with a problem I've been having since a kid.


What I'm trying to say is how some people think that just because they're older/in a higher position/richer should be respected automatically regardless of how they treat people.


As I said to Mama in 2009:


"Now that I'm 20, I'm not going to care about being all nice and respectful and sweet to a bitchy ungrateful 40 year old woman who totally made my life hell 6 years ago by spreading stories to both sides of my family. She doesn't deserve any respect from me just because she happens to be my aunt. I'll show her respect when she shows me some. When she shows you as her older sister some. She can say whatever she wants about me, I don't give a damn,"


Yes, long story. A bit personal. Sufficient to say that I'm now the black sheep on Mama's side because most people are idiots and don't know the concept of listening to both sides.


Add on some other similiar stories and I'm a firm believer of:


"I'll respect you if you respect me. I'll treat you the way you treat me,"


Oh, I'm being distant sometimes? Sucks to be on the receiving end don't you think?


Yes, with age sometimes you get respect but that doesn't mean you can be a bitch.


Earn the respect.


No, don't even get me started on how some people seem to think the sun shines from celebrities' asses.


Peace Out.

Week 3- Wishlist.

"What are five things from your wishlist?"

A wishlist. 5 things.


Hanis: Johnny Depp, Gary Oldman, Hugh Jackman, *insert name of high school crush* and *insert name of current its-just-a-small-thing crush*.

Mozart: We'll need to include pictures.

Hanis : ... I'll just change my wishlist up.


Amazingly, this week's topic is hard. I honestly have to think long and hard(keep your mind out of the gutter) before managing to scrap 5 things into this list. I present to you Hanis' wishlist.


One: That Particular Vanilla Scent

Once upon a time, there was this vanilla perfume I was in love with. It made me smell so luscious, like dessert. It made people crave for cookies/cakes/muffins/icecreams. It came short of hot guys wanting me as dessert. Then, the whole line of perfume (vanilla, pears and so on) stopped appearing in Carrefour. I cried. It was like part of me have died.


Two: The Dean's List

I got this once in my diploma. My aim for degree with 4 semesters? Get on that fucking to die for amazing list for at least two times. To quote Dad:

"I'm not expecting you to get a 4 flat. All I want is for you to get on the dean's list,"

A minimum of 3.5 it seems. I got my eye on you DL.


Three: Books

A minimum of one new book per month. Nuff said. There's no upper limit.


Four: Get My Adrenaline Going

No, not in that way. Unfortunately.

I was thinking of putting "Bungee Jumping" but then remembered all those wonderful rollercoasters that I simply adore. I run to those thrill rides like a girl run to the mega sale. Yes, I'm known to drag a friend or two along, begging them to get on a ride that will leave their hearts beating so fast with me.

The faster, the higher, the scarier, the more twists and turns the better. Imagine how I'll love you if you bring me bungee jumping. I'm still trying to persuade Dad to let me do reverse bungee jumping. Its when you sit in this ball thingie and you get sling up and down, roll around in such death approaching manner amazingly wonderful adrenaline pumping way.

*sighs happily*


Five: Still Unknown

I had this wishlist all done on Tuesday night. Then few hours ago I found out something that made no.5 seem wrong. So I ditched it, took time to think of another one and failed. *sighs* Looking at the bright side, it means I'm not a demanding person. Or something.


Want to read Mozart's list? Click here.


Peace Out.

That Pro-Ana Post.

God, I just realised (at 10.26 pm Wednesday night) that I still haven't post on pro-ana. Yes, I feel so guilty. So, here goes.

Fact 1: I'm overweight.

Fact 2: According to the BMI system, I'm obese.

Fact 3: I'm gorgeous.

Pro-ana is promoting anorexia as a lifestyle, not a disease. No, I didn't do much research so stop bitching on how inaccurate I'm being. I've read enough pro-ana blogs to last me until all my fat tissues are used up.

What do I think of pro-ana? I think there's two types. The first one is the person who's doing it to lose weight. The second type is the person who aims for a weight that will surely push them to an early grave. 70lbs and so on.

To be honest, I've been in the first type few times in my life. But I can say, thankfully none lasted more than a month. I only cut down my food intake. Until it got to a point where I was light headed most of the time. Worst thing was the hallucinations. That was in 2008. Last time I went into that kind of thing.

I can still remember when I got used to eating so little that when I tried eating again my tummy got hurt. Such a pain. *shudders*. I got the shakes and knew that meant I need some sugar hence got some sweetened drink into me. Now, I'm not saying I was into anorexic habits. Just that I dabbled in some and didn't like it.

What about bulimia? Hell, I get nauseous so easily - even while brushing my teeth. Yes, it is easy for me to throw up. But, for that very reason, I hate the feeling of throwing up. I cry everytime I throw up when I'm sick. It hurts me that bad. Why would I purposely make myself throw up?

For some people this works. For most, the weight lost will come back and we all have read that by doing crash diets or anything, you fuck up your metabolism. Hence, the ongoing battle with your weight.

Some of the blogs I've read has these thinspo pictures. Honestly now I think of fattening up Kate Moss for being one of the main thinspiration. I've seen pictures of girls proudly showing off their ribs and spines. They say it as beautiful and all. I felt like crying. And being thankful that that school of thought is not the leading one in the world right now. I'd be the epitome of ugly if it were.


And I thought a certain asshole was bad with his insistent "You have to be 95lbs,".


I'm not going to say you pro-ana people are crazy. Its your body. Your life. If you end up dying, we'll have more oxygen. Don't take that one seriously but you get what I mean. It just saddens me that there's people out there who aims to be all skin and bones.


I'd rather die thin than live fat


Hey, we might be able to cut quite a percentage of the world's population if the people who believe in that line above really stick to it. More oxygen, less people, more food, better world.

Once again, don't take me seriously. But you get what I mean.


If you're doing it for a guy, tell him to fuck a twink. Seriously.


If you're doing it because your friends are all thin and you want to be part of the group, tell them to "fuck off". Friendships should not be that shallow.


If you're doing it because your family keeps calling you a whale, tell them to "fuck off" also and show them stories of people dying from anorexia. They won't want their kid to end up like that, if they're halfway decent. If they're not, just tell them to "fuck off" again.


If you're doing it because your role models are those celebrities, just know that most of them aren't worth being idolized.


If you're doing it to fit into those S or M sized clothes, try to think of how the clothes in Asia are much smaller and think of me trying to find those that fits.


If you're doing it because you look in the mirror and think how ugly you are, tell the mirror to "fuck off" because you're gorgeous.


If you're doing it because you think you're so ugly/fat/repulsive, think of your good points. If that fails, think of me and my obesity. Yes, you can feel better about yourself.


If you're doing it to be healthy, which fucking part of cutting off your calorie intake drastically, water fasting, pills, laxatives and whatever else is healthy? Go fucking jogging or something and eat healthily.


Oh yes, one last thing I don't get about the pro-ana diet, Diet Coke seems to be quite common as an energy booster. Like, what the fuck? The Diet part means nothing. Fucking eat some apple with peanut butter if you're that desperate.


Don't be hating me for this post. A total subjective, opinion one.


Peace Out.


[Hanis is now an avid water drinker, aiming for 4 liters per day while cutting off her sugar intake in drinks. She does not weigh herself religiously and take laxatives. She believes that the odd large-sized bar of chocolate is not a big sin. Once an avid lover of soft drinks, she cringes at a sip of Pepsi. - Ed.]

Mozart, You Better Read This.

Dear Mozart,


Thank you for corrupting spoiling me with your nearly constant online presence. I have took it for granted am used to you always being online that right now, I have a dark cloud above my head. A dark cloud that came from my dissapointment in not having anyone to gossip to. Yes, I've turned you to a gossiping hen, clucking as we exchange juicy gossip.

The important question is, how will I survive once you go back to uni?

*dies*

*ignores the fact that I'm at uni now*

*ignores the fact that the wireless here is crap*

We have to try the international texting again.

Oh crap. Battery is running low.

Don't get into trouble. Try to avoid as much trouble as you can.

Sincerely,

Hanis the gorgeous.

P/S: I shall gossip later.

Confession No. 11

What's pathetic?

Hoping for a certain comment.

Whenever I see that there's one I have to moderate.

Week 2- Immortality.

Note: I chose this week's topic. Mozart wanted to kill me.

Question: "If you could choose to live forever, would you? Why or why not?"

Imagine a stranger approaching you with an offer. One that logically you'll need time to think. In my mind, the stranger is a tall guy with looks that makes you shiver and think of danger. He'll give me a week or even a month of time to think of his offer of immortality. He'll leave with a gust of wind and a murmur, "Think hard,"

I'll be losing sleep, thinking and thinking. Listing out the pros and cons. I'll imagine I'll ask if the offer can be extended to a few select people. My parents. My brother. A friend or two. And perhaps, a guy I can imagine having a neverending torrid lover affair with. Basically people I want to live forever with.

Of course, the probability of my enigmatic stranger saying yes is as big as me joining Dancing With the Stars or wait, Miss Universe. If you need a figure, that will be a 0.00000000000000001 chance of a yes.

No, don't count the number of zeroes.

Living forever and ever seems appealing at a short glance. Imagine celebrating the arrival of the next millenium while you regale the story of how Y2K made the world all worried a millenia ago. Or telling a group of wide eyed children about the cartoons and pets you had over your life.

I'll be eager to try out commercial space travel. The rings of Saturn might be the top honeymoon spot someday. Don't forget the space stations with people living in it. With teleportation and jazzy spacesuits. And yes, even lightsabers classes.

An immortal won't be hampered with the limited time and having to make choices. I'll be able to get as much degrees as I want. I'll certainly get first class honours when it comes to the 20th century history. Heck, I'll be the leading professor in that field.

But then, I imagine an immortal is often lonely. I've read a trilogy where one of the immortal characters remarked how hard he tries, he can't remember how his parents and siblings looked like. Let alone any memories of them.

Do I want that?

Do I want that minutes before falling asleep yearning for my parents to be there with me? Do I want to struggle to remember the taste of Mama's cooking? Or the way lil bro would bother me? Perhaps I'll even say:

"I can't recall my childhood after living this long,"

Sad, isn't it?

I might get a sad look in my eyes when I tell about the first guy that has ever loved me and how I had to watch him grow old and frail, his love true till the end. Maybe I won't remember the number of times I cried to myself when my heart broke for the first time. That's good, true?

No. An immortal me will forever be lonely. Scared of getting too close and caring for someone who in the end, will die and leave me alone again. I'll put emotional barriers. Locking my heart somewhere safe so I won't have to cry at another funeral. I won't get used to it. I'll just be lonely and distant. Another stranger.

I could always marry and have children multiple times. And watch them die. What a recipe to be ruined.

I guess I have to say no to my enigmatic stranger. He'll look amused before shrugging his shoulders, parting with the warm imprint of his lips on my forehead and a whisper of regret. Perhaps he's wishing that he had said no when he too was offered the same thing ages and ages ago.

Being an immortal must have lost its fun after the first hundred years or so. He's just a stranger now in this everchanging world, looking and searching for someone to be immortal with.


To check out Mozart's piece, do click on here and spam him. I mean, read it.

Think. Happy. Thoughts.

At a talk this afternoon, the speaker told us that we should have happy positive thoughts when we wake up in the morning. This will give us that perk up in our mood for the whole day. He asked us to give examples.

"Good morning"

"I look so pretty"

And so on. In my mind I was thinking:

"I'm still alive!"

Then, a guy from somewhere near the back of the hall said:

"Class got cancelled,"

We all agreed that is indeed the best positive thought to have in the morning.

"It will motivate all of you?"

"Yessss"

"Motivate you to continue your sleep."

Fuck yes.

You know when you wake up, see that text in your phone from your class rep that class got cancelled and you have that smile on your face for exactly 5 seconds before snoring into your pillow again.

Best feeling ever.

Peace Out.

Friendships Can Be So Overrated.

Once upon a time, I didn't believe in the concept of best friends. In my opinion, once I say someone is my best friend, something will fuck it up. Or someone. Even when it comes to friends, I merely see them as someone to talk to and giggle with. Or ask for help to teach something and vice versa.


Hell, I even got 2nd place in a national level poem writing competition at 15. Yes, still a source of gloating. If only I can find that newspaper clipping and scan it to show y'all.


Going back to the topic, one thing I didn't do was sharing my problems. And like every teenager, I had problems. Some common ones. Some unique ones.


"But hey, aren't friends for crying and laughing too?"


I don't believe in that. Not that I'm a bitch that won't listen to your problems. I will. I do. Just that most of you, well, my friends won't give me more than 5 mins to listen to mine. If they do, I'll see that eye-roll, that "god, when will she stop?" look, the distracted look and so on.


What do I do?


I'll shut up.

I'll smile and say thank you.

I'll tell them how I appreciate it and that I'll be there for them.

I'll tell myself to never share my problems with anyone again.


Can there something worse? Yes. Sometimes, as a decent human being, we have to help our friend see what they did wrong. Their part of the blame. Often, there's two ways that people go with for this.


A) They'll ask and probe, letting the friend to look back and see how things really are.


B) They'll be pushing the fact that their friend were immature/hasty/whatever shit and basically, appointing themself as some kind of prosecutor against their own friend.


I've seen A. I've been the asker. I've been asked. For B somehow, it pisses me off like a baby panda having its bamboo shoots taken away from it. It makes me think:


"Who's friend are you?"


Well, not that G-rated. But you get me, right?


Vindicated, I'am wrong, I'am right,
I swear I'm right, I swear I knew it all along,


That sums up how I feel whenever a friend goes all Situation B on me. Anger. Shock. Betrayal. Sadness. Being emotional me, I'll cry. Not in front of people. I rarely cry in front of others. I don't like sharing my problems, let alone my tears.


There will be a battle of "Yes, she's right about it" and "What a fucking-" in my mind. And what
do I do? I'll tell myself to bite on my tongue before telling the friend another problem. I'll rather suffer in silence. And listen to their problems.


Over the past few years, since starting university, I've grown more open. More accepting of this friendship thing. More trusting. Verdict? I've gotten more friends. Some close, some casual. But sometimes, I wish I'm still back in school, looking at friendships with a cynical eye.



I'm still suffering in silence. With a mental list of friends not to share problems with.


Laugh and the world will laugh with you. Cry and you're all alone.

Sharing is Caring.

Remember that Economics test I had few weeks back? Well, I got a 23/30 for it. I was happy with it since the average is below 20. And a handful got below 10. So, the lecturer went:

"I'm not happy with the results. So, I'll do a re-test. And if I'm not happy with that one, we'll do another one!"

I felt like head banging my desk. Since, he added another chapter for the test. That test was yesterday. How did it go? I literally got cramps from all the writing. It was okay. I hope I'll get above 30 for this one as the full mark is 40.

Right now, I'm once again procrastinating from studying for my Financial Math test. Its tommorow, less than 24 hours away. Two chapters. I'm staring at my notes. Fallllling asleep. Being super lazy. Can I like, do it later?

Or even better, just sit beside a smart person and copy off him. And hopefully the lecturer will be his wonderful self, leave the class during the test so we'll get the chance to open our books. As always.

I got 3 quizzes on Friday. I know.

I'll just take a nap or laze around.

Study later.

Peace Out.

Week 1 - Quotes.

Do read the "Read this" section up there.

Done?

So, the question is "What's your favourite quote and how does it relate to your life?"

Yes, Mozart is about to kill me if I don't write this post soon. Don't tell him I said that. I have a perfectly good reason for my ... delay. I had a difficult time choosing a single quote. But to no more delay, I present you my favourite quote. And another.


If you are going through hell, keep on going. - Winston Churchill


I found this in the depressive after being dumped months few months back and it got stuck to me. Its short and simple. Straightforward.

As a heartbroken girl, I felt like I was going through hell. Some kind of playground for emotional rollercoasters and crying myself to sleep nearly every night where the smallest and random things set me off. It was a wonder I didn't get panda eyes with all the crying.

And I was told that eventually it will pass and I'll be back to normal. I won't feel like crying or throwing something at the mention of his name. I remember rolling my eyes and crying even harder about how impossible that is. How painfully long it will be before my heart would even be strong enough to survive.

God, I was a basket case.

So as Mr Churchill put it, just keep on going. Eventually you'll get to the exit gate and leave hell. A bit scarred. But more wiser. Stronger. But you'll just wipe off the ashes stuck on you, wash your face and move on. Maybe you'll turn around and flip off hell with a wonderful Fuck You before strutting off.

That's what I did.

And yes, that other quote. This one made me tear up, honestly when I read it the first time.


If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you.- A. A. Milne


Let's hope that one day, I can relate this to my life.

And yes, if you want something more serious, read Mozart's version. He'll feel like a God if you comment.
Peace Out.

Don't Be a Mike.

One of my weakness is that when I have a friend and genuinely like them, I get easily emotional. As we all know, I hate being ignored. I hate being put on the 2nd place stool over someone else. What do I do when this happens?


I cry.

Which is stupid.


So, I have a friend, Mike. We have a mutual friend. And few months back, he told me he had always liked her more than me. And being the stupid forgiving me, we made up after that statement made me cry till I fell asleep.

But oh wait, why did we made up? Mike wasn't talking to her because they got into a fight. This went on till around end of December when I, being stupid idiotic and basically brainless, passed on a message that led to them making up and being friends again.

Guess who got pushed into that 2nd place stool?

Yes, Hanis.

Of course, Mike denies it. He doesn't see what I'm trying to get to. He doesn't see how his statement months back affected me.

So, here's for you Mike.

*flips you off*

Fuck you Mike. Fuck you and your friendships. Fuck you and everything you said. Fuck you.

And yes, I'm fully expecting you talking so eagerly to me again when you fuck things up with her, again.

Fuck you Mike. Fuck you for making me cry so hard at the kitchen table this morning.

Notes From This Week.

1. Do remember all the comments you leave on various blogs. Some of them might have replied. And is waiting for your reply.

2. Check your vision before barging out of the hostel so you won't only realise how blurry things look when you're approaching your faculty because you totally forgot your lenses. Or glasses.

3. Never think "I'll rewrite this later" when it comes to a messy page of notes. It will still be that when you flip open your book at the next class.

4. Everytime you circle the questions you have to do, don't get a memory loss and only recover that memory during the next class.

5. Guys are observant. And they gossip. Especially if they sit behind you in class. So don't do anything you won't do in front of your boyfriend future mother in law crush.

6. Studying Actuarial Math at 3pm while lying on your bed? Instant nap-time. Do it only when you have had 75% of the studying covered.

7. Listening to Sam Tsui's version of Hold It Against Me will eventually make you sing the words softly during a test. Your classmates might not like it.

I Can't Think of a Title. Just Accept This.

Its 10.41 pm and I'm finally fucking done with my essay. Like, proof read by Mozart and printed out. So booya! I'm done with Economics. I hope. I even did the little exercise my Arabic lecturer told me to. I have to memorise my phone number in Arabic. Can someone like, kill me now? Well, just like, make me go to sleep and then pack my bags for this week.


Wait, this week? (I bet that's what you're all thinking, if not, just say you are)


Since Mama's all well, she gets her car back, I'm doomed in the hostels. Don't worry. I'll be home on Thursday night and you'll get to read about me ranting on some subject/idiot. Or anything. Wipe those tears away Mozart. I know you'll mention me in one of your posts.


Anyway, today while chatting online, someone asked me if I like to watch movies.


"Only at cinemas. That's because I paid to watch em. Not on tv or laptop though,"

"Why?'

"I feel like the movie goes too slow. Or there's commercials. But more like, I feel it moves slow. The same goes for tv shows. I rarely watch tv. And when I do, I'll do a lot of channel surfing or I'll get super bored and pissed at the commercials."

"... Do you have ADD?"


I laughed. Then thought about it. This thing I have against watching tv and shows on my laptop is one I have for about 4 years? And like, I love reading and using the internet. I do those two things at my own pace.


I hate window shopping. I hate being at the mall and just walking around. Yes, I don't see the point of going into stores and try clothes you're never going to buy just so you can take pictures of yourself wearing it in the dressing room mirror. FYI, most of those pics are overrated. Guess who don't really like going out with shopping minded friends?


For me, going to the mall compromise of getting/doing what you came for and grabbing something to eat before going back home. Please, do not just walk around because you want to fill up the hour. I'll be behind you dragging my feet and being sulky like a spoiled 5 year old. Yes, I still do that sometimes when Mama decides to walk around the mall.


I won't even start on how fast I lose interest in things. I have some other things (pack my bags/some ironing) to do before going to sleep. That is if I don't get distracted by something Mozart's saying :P

And yes, I have no idea if I do have ADD. Or had gotten it recently. Or a mild version of it. I just don't know! Maybe one of you can tell me?

Peace Out.

And don't miss me tooooo much. Comment loads.

Post in Procrastinating.

I'm struggling with my Economics essay. YES I got the article.

I got the other articles for the other subjects too.

I'm aching to take a nap.

I don't have any more dark chocolate bars left.

Yet, I still ate a whole baguette. By myself.

I shall post a longer one tonight. If I don't get lazy.

Peace Out.

Oh yes, if any of you can, do buy a dark chocolate bar online and post it to me.

A real one. Not a virtual one.

Taking a Nap After This Post.

To Do List:


1. Find an article for my Economics essay. It has to be suitable so I can write about intro to Economics, Demand, Supply and Market Equilibrium based on it. I'll just google "Changes in price of-" and hope for the best.

2. Pack up some stuffs because I'll be sending them over to the hostel today. Mostly clothes that will be thrown/balled up into the bag and a box of 500ml bottles of mineral water. *imagines the weight*

3. Find a list of something for my Ethnic Relations. I just have to remember if I'm supposed to look for pros or cons.

4. Type up the Economics essay. Find article first.

5.Fold the clothes that's overflowing from the basket beside me.

6. Clean up my room.


What I'm actually doing:

1. Reading people's blogs.

2. Finishing off the large bar of dark chocolate Throw away the empty wrapper and brush any evidence off.

3. Listening to how some guy will die for me, again and again and again.

4. Talking to Mozart.

5. Blogging about how I'm procrastinating.


I bet Mozart will tell me to get off Facebook/Youtube/Blogger so I'll google for the articles properly.


Or just tell me to be even lazier. I never know with that guy.

And of course, have you noticed the new page up there? The one "For My Stalkers". Yes, click on that even if you're not a stalker.

And, of course, love the picture of the mysterious looking Panda up there.

If not, love this wonderful song for me. I'm hopelessly addicted to it.

Peace Out.

Tomato Sauce and Ketchup.

I'm a whore for McDonald's french fries. Like, the day that they offer free refills of fries, like how they have for the soft drinks, I'll cry in happiness and blog about it. Its the only thing that I'll eat with ketchup since I'm serial chilli sauce dipper. This habit of mine has sparked questions over the years as here, in wonderful Malaysia, the chilli sauce is far more popular as we love our chillies. (That sounded kinda corny, true?)

"Why are you eating those with tomato sauce? Can't stand the heat? Har Har Har,"

"OMG, Hanis, you took the wrong sauce!"

"Is there something wrong with your tastebuds?"

And on. And oh yes, ketchup is more commonly known as tomato sauce here. Unless you go to fast food restaurants and they'll refer to it as ketchup. Well, not since forever but the past few years. I have no idea why. So, yes, there are people here who don't know that ketchup = tomato sauce. It sounds similiar to kicap which is Malay for soy sauce. Can you guess some of the confusion?

Which brings on to this ranting bitch of a story that happened to me few years back. I was at the nearby McDonald's during lunch hour. So, this cashier, a girl around the age of 17-18 (I just realised every problem I have with this place will have a girl that age as the root of my problem) took my order (take-away/ to go) and as usual, while putting the goods in that paper bag, they'll ask you what condiments you want.

"Do you want chilli or ketchup?"

That day's purchase were my lil bro and Mama's lunch and also some fries for me. So, knowing them, I know I'll only have to ask for ketchup because Mama prefer using the bottled chilli sauce at home.

"Ketchup please,"

And oh wait, this whole convo went in Malay. But she used the word ketchup instead of tomato sos which you can guess means tomato sauce. She suddenly had this thought/ perception in her head that I'm some kind of dumb ass girl with limited English vocabulary.

"Ketchup tu bukan kicap tau, tomato sos,"

Which translated to :

"Ketchup is not soy sauce, its tomato sauce,"

Dear wonderful readers, please imagine how insulted I was. I was cursing her in my head. And my face was so pissed off looking that I snapped to her in English:

"Why thank you but I've known what ketchup is for years now,"

God. Her pronounciation wasn't even right. It so sounded like kicap.

And that was one of the few incidents where I felt like smacking a cashier at McDonald's. Wanna hear more? Tell me! I'll gladly tell you later.

I'll post the other incidents when I get the craving for some McDonald's fries again.

Peace Out.

Letter to My Neighbour.

Dear 2nd Neighbour From the Right,



Next time, do give us a warning if you plan to set off BIG firecrackers that must have cost you quite the BIG red packet. So that the old people could wear earmuffs and avoid potential heart attacks. And so the mothers can put their babies in sound proof rooms. And also, so Hanis won't be so scared that she hides under her blanket in fear wondering if some kind of gang fight is going on out there.


Next year, do tell me so I can stay up and be prepared instead of getting the shock of this year. I might even join you because I love those firecrackers. It took me few minutes to gather enough courage so I can peek from behind my curtains half expecting a dragon or a gang fight. My mom had quite a laugh this morning when I told her.


So, Happy Chinese New Year! Enjoy your year of the Rabbit. Please don't take it as a sign to eat rabbit stew. Just watch loads of Bugs Bunny, alright? 2 more years to the Year of the Snake!

Sincerely,

Your gorgeous neighbour.

If You're One of Those Nature Guys, I'll Have to Break Your Heart.

I'm not a nature loving person. Don't get me wrong. I'm all about saving the trees and so on. I'm not an enviromentalist or a tree-hugger but I'm not some ignorant person who keeps the air-conditioning turned on the whole day.


What I mean is that, well, guys, never ever ever think hiking will be a good idea of a date with me. I'm not a girl that shrieks when she breaks her nail just someone who prefers being indoors.


I don't sweat and end up looking like a hot sex fantasy.

I don't still smell like perfume after that hike.

I'm not that agile girl who never falls or trip as she makes her way on nature walks.

You get me?


Of course, I've been on forced by friends to join in school camping trips for about enough times to last my whole lifetime a number of times. It was fun. But not when the leeches attacked me. Or when the mosquitoes decided to have a Hanis buffet. Or during that time the river went wild, swept me downstream and made me hang on for dear life on a branch before coming out barefooted. Not even when frogs decided to hop into the tent.


Yes, I think nature is hopelessly in love with me. Its .. kind of one-sided, don't you think? If it was from an individual, I would be able to file a stalker claim. Get some kind of " You can't be within so-and-so from Hanis," thingie on the person. But, this is nature. So what do I do? I stay away from activities that will put me on its mercy.


Sometimes, when there's a waterfall involved, I'll be tempted. My sense of survival dies resolve weakens and I'll agree. More often than not, I'll trip over a big big big rock tiny pebble and get stains on my knees. If I'm lucky(which means everytime) I'll get a cut and bruise, along with blood stains. Yes, I have ugly knees. But, come on, the waterfall will be awesome. Except for that time when there was a toad swimming beside my face.


Guess who screamed and ran out which lead to hysteria among the other girls until the place is empty?


A friend once asked me if I wanted to join a little trip to the beach. No thank you. Unless there's hot white guys in flowery designed swimming trunks, awesome sunnies and six pack abs wandering around, then no. Why?


1. I hate sand. They get everywhere. Especially there. And it sticks to your feet. Which makes your footwear sandy. Which is icky.

2. Sun. We all know how Hanis avoids the sun. And no one wants to take a big big umbrella and let me hide under it.

3. The salty water. Enough said.

4. There might be small animals that will climb up your legs as you frolick in the water before sneakily getting higher and higher, aiming for there.

5. There might be sharks that will eat me up when everyone else is busy so I'll mysteriously dissapear until my half eaten carcass ends up at some shore


I'll just stick to swimming pools. With a lifeguard nearby. And no sand. Or sharks. Just to be safe.

Basically, this is a tip for the guys out there who's secretly admiring me. No hiking, trips to the beach sort of thing. If you still want something to do with nature, ask me and I'll think of something. I'll try.

And when you're done reading this, do head over to Mozart and spam his cbox. Or leave a comment. Because:

"Everytime someone leaves me a comment, I feel like God,"

"Oh really?"

"It's -"

"Then I make you feel like God most of the time."

I know, that sounds so wrong. Like, terribly wrong. But imagine if leaving a comment makes him feel like God, what will being a follower makes him feel like?

I'm still stumped over that.

Oh well.

Peace Out.

Dedication.

Make me your teenage dream tonight.

Just put your hands on me.

I'll get your heart racing.

Don't ever look back.

I'm struggling with essays. Economic essays.